


Keep The Change

by Apprehensive_Fictionists



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A little bit of angst, Fluff and Smut, Multi, we'll add tags as this goes on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-22 05:40:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9585806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apprehensive_Fictionists/pseuds/Apprehensive_Fictionists
Summary: “You know I can’t do that, buddy. I’m sorry, you’ll just have to accept it.” Lance was about to make his next argument when a pale hand clad in dark, worn out cutoffs reached out in front of him and laid a five-dollar bill on the counter. He glanced behind him with complete and utter disbelief, his eyes wide. A boy with eyes blue like the night sky and black hair stood directly behind him. He was wearing a dark red and white leather jacket, some kind of yellow logo that Lance didn’t recognize printed on the fabric. Under normal circumstances, he probably would have felt compelled to internally mock and laugh at the stranger’s mullet-like hairstyle, but of course, this was an exception. His face was expressionless, despite the act of kindness he was performing.“Keep the change,” he muttered to the shocked cashier, voice low, before walking out of the door faster than Lance could comprehend what just happened.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to our klance hell! This account is co-owned by yours truly, Taiyo and Tsuki (because we're weebs, yes). This fic is based on an idea Taiyo came up with while bullshitting her journals in school. It's kind of like an apocalypse AU where Zarkon has taken over Earth and most existing planets. He runs them all like a dictator, basically. We really hope you enjoy! We will keep it up to date, we swear.

 

 “That’ll be $15.95,” the cashier said with a unamused tone. She chewed her gum loudly and without care, as if she wanted to be anywhere but there, behind the counter. Lance blinked incredulously. 

 

 “What?”

 

 “You heard me. $15.95. Pay up.” her already dark eyes narrowed, and she held her hand out insistently and popped her gum. ‘S-Seriously?’ he thought to himself, frantically checking the pockets of both his worn-out blue jeans and grey hoodie. Lance swallowed thickly, the nervousness making his stomach churn. 

 

 “T-There’s no way it could be that much!” His voice was panicked, and although the side of him that was humiliated wanted to whisper, the half-shout that bubbled up from his throat simply could not be suppressed. “It was 10 bucks last time I was here, I swear!” The customers behind him were beginning to grumble in dissent, and the cashier shifted slightly, looking annoyed. She slumped onto the counter, face in her hand, sour expression lining her features.

 

 “That was three months ago, Lance. Times have changed. Are changing, rather. Deal with it.”  Lance braced himself against the counter, fierce although anxious expression on his face. This wasn’t good… he  _ had _ to get it, even if it was the last thing he did. The cashier looked a bit startled at his outburst, but Lance didn’t care.

 

 “Oh my God…”

 

 “This is ridiculous!” The customers following him were voicing their impatience, but he didn’t care. This was the only thing that mattered to him right now; everything else was trivial in comparison.

 

 “Look, I only have 11 dollars, give or take a few cents… Please, you  _ have  _ to let me have it! I… I’ll pay you back next time! Y-You know me!” Lance’s voice was all nerves, all desperation. She shook her head curtly, holding firm to her earlier words.

 

 “You know I can’t do that, buddy. I’m sorry, you’ll just have to accept it.” Lance was about to make his next argument when a pale hand clad in dark, worn out cutoffs reached out in front of him and laid a five-dollar bill on the counter. He glanced behind him with complete and utter disbelief, his eyes wide. A boy with eyes blue like the night sky and black hair stood directly behind him. He was wearing a dark red and white leather jacket, some kind of yellow logo that Lance didn’t recognize printed on the fabric. Under normal circumstances, he probably would have felt compelled to internally mock and laugh at the stranger’s mullet-like hairstyle, but of course, this was an exception. His face was expressionless, despite the act of kindness he was performing. 

 

 “Keep the change,” he muttered to the shocked cashier, voice low, before walking out of the door faster than Lance could comprehend what just happened. He shook his head to clear the haze and laid down the rest of the money, not caring in the slightest about the loud sighs of relief as he took the item and ran out after his generous benefactor.

 

 “H-Hey! Wait, come back!” he shouted. The boy walking ahead did not stop. He didn’t even show signs that he heard Lance calling out to him, and he knew for a fact that he could hear him. Lance picked up his pace, frustrated, and yelled even louder than the first time.

 

 “WAIT!” The dark-haired male stopped and briskly and turned around. 

 

_ “What do you want?” _ he hissed, his voice low, his dark eyes sullen. Lance halted abruptly, almost losing his balance. 

 

 “I-I...” Lance stuttered, not expecting such an attitude from the stranger who had previously been so kind. Irritation gathered within Lance, causing his face to scrunch up. “What do you mean, ‘what do you want?’ I _wanted_ to fucking thank you for paying for my stuff,” Lance paused, taking a moment to throw his hands up and look around bewilderedly. “What, did you not learn how to accept thank-yous or something?”

 

 The stranger scoffed loudly, crossing his arms in indifference, “I really don’t care about your thank-you. I only paid for your shit because you were holding up the line!” 

 

 Lance mirrored his stance stubbornly. “If that’s really the case, then why didn’t you buy anything afterwards? You  _ were _ next, after all.” At this, the boy froze, his eyes widening and then narrowing again. 

 

 “That… That’s none of your business!” he shot back angrily.

 

 At this point, Lance was practically livid. He was just trying to show some gratitude to the guy who pretty much just saved his hide, and yet he was given the cold shoulder. Was this  _ really _ the same boy that had paid for the item Lance so badly needed? He sighed. 

 

 “Look, I don’t normally care about random assholes that I see on the streets, but I can’t just forget someone who pays for me.  _ Especially _ if it’s someone I don’t even know. Lance Mcclain is not someone who just leaves debts unpaid.” The boy tilted his head, staring blankly at Lance.

 

 “Who’s Lance Mcclain…?” 

 

 Lance rolled his eyes.  _ “Me, you idiot.”  _ he sighed and combed his fingers through his hair. “What’s your name?” Lance asked, his voice calmer and lower than before. The dark-haired stranger hesitated, obviously considering whether or not he should actually tell him his name or not.

 

 “... it’s Keith,” he muttered, eyes averted. Lance nodded, taking mental note of the his name.

 

 “Alright, Keith. I’m serious about paying back that debt, okay? Just let me know what I can do so we can call it even.” Lance’s mood seemed to become more serious, his eyes glinting determinedly.

 

 “I don’t need anything, so forget it.” Keith let his gaze fall to the ground, scuffing his heel against the dirt awkwardly. He wanted to be anywhere  _ except  _ standing in front of “Lance Mcclain”. The conversation had died because of his curt response, so why couldn’t he get himself to leave? ‘How irritating…’ he thought, scowling. Now that he thought about it, though, there was something that had been bothering him. Just as he was about to open his mouth, Lance huffed in frustration.

 

 “Look, you might not need anything, but if you’re really _ that _ annoyed with me, why don’t you just let me pay you back somehow and let that be the end of it?” His brown eyes were narrowed with anger. Keith sighed, his expression dulling. This guy was really hard to deal with, he decided. He avoided the subject, hoping Lance wouldn't insist any further.

 

 “...What did you need it for?” His voice was practically a whisper; he was half-hoping that Lance hadn’t heard him, even though he knew by the disbelief on his face that he had. Lance faltered.

 

“W… What?” He mumbled. He really didn’t understand this boy. Why was he suddenly asking him about what he had bought, like a normal person would? Lance had not been expecting the question, considering how disinterested he had been before. Keith’s eye twitched and he sighed, rubbing his temples. 

 

 “The mechanical oil. What did you need it for so badly that you just  _ had  _ to get it?” he snapped, glaring with irritation at Lance for how stupid he was being. What else could he be talking about, after all? Had he never heard someone ask a question before? ‘Idiot…’ he thought to himself.

 

 “Oh... um, this! Yeah..” Lance rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I... don’t really, actually know what this is for... My friend sent me to get it and she said it was urgent, so.”

 

 Keith honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Did this guy really cause such a commotion over some oil when he didn’t even know what it was used for? Keith sighed; Lance was turning out to be nothing but a headache - one that he already wished he could get rid of.

 

 “I use that oil with my motorcycles. It's made for vehicles and ships, but only a certain brand. Your friend must be pretty smart if she’s able to handle machines. Unlike  _ some _ people…” Keith muttered the last part, hoping Lance didn’t hear him. Luckily enough for him, Lance was still puzzling over his sudden change in attitude.

 

 “Uh, yeah, okay…” he trailed off absentmindedly, before his eyes widened. “Wait a second! I’ve got it!” he exclaimed, making a sudden motion with his hands, his expression bright. ‘Of course,’ Lance thought, ‘why didn't I think of this sooner?’ Keith shuddered. Lance didn’t strike him as the kind of guy that had good ideas, when, of course he had them (which he still thought the possibility of was low). He narrowed his eyes, taking a step back.

 

 “What, what is it?” Keith really didn't want to ask, but did anyways. He’d rather be informed than not. Lance grinned, grabbing him by the shoulders.

 

 “Kay, so, since you seem to be super curious n’ shit, why don’t you come along with me to meet Pidge? She’s like, really smart, so I’m sure she could answer all of your questions.” 

 

 Keith was surprised. ‘That’s… actually not a bad idea. Okay, so, he's not entirely incompetent. Maybe. Wait, what am I thinking? As much as I want to meet this friend of his, there’s no way I can go along with this. It’ll only bring trouble, I’m sure,’ he thought to himself before shaking Lance's hands off. He crossed his arms.

 

 “Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. I don't really have any questions.” he lied, looking away. Lance squinted, getting closer to him, tilting his head suspiciously.

 

 “Are you sure? I don’t know… you kind of seem like the type that would get along well with her. Plus, I can repay my debt to you if you come.” Keith clenched his jaw, annoyed. When was Lance going to let go of the whole debt thing? ‘Seriously, it was only four dollars…’ he thought to himself. But then again… even though Lance's first reason kind of implied insult, Keith was honestly thinking that himself. He was actually really interested in whatever it was she was using the oil for. He sighed, uncrossing his arms and letting them fall to his sides.

 

 “...Alright. I’ll go with you. And about that debt; if you’re  _ really _ going to be so childish and not let it go, then I’ll accept your repayment.” Lance scowled.

 

 “I’m not being childish! I’m being courteous. It’s only right.” Keith sighed, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

 

 “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s go, Mcclain.”

 




  
  


 Lance grinned while walking through the threshold, happy to at least be home after what seemed like such a long day. Keith, on the other hand, couldn't help but feel a bit surprised. Somehow, he expected Lance to live in some really nice house, or, at the very least, a decent one. He wasn’t expecting that Lance would lead him through a run-down neighborhood to a shack that looked like it was about to collapse.

 Lance hadn’t noticed Keith’s reaction to the place that he lived in with his roommates - even if he had, though, he wouldn't have cared. He and his friends were grateful to even have a roof over their heads, and it was comfortable to them, most of the time. Besides, it was located in a convenient area; there was even a working water system just next to the little shack. Maybe their living space was small, but the unoccupied, decent-sized plot of land just behind it made up for it all, as Keith had discovered. 

 

 “We love it,” Lance beamed, gesturing to the sectioned off land, “it’s basically our unofficial backyard, haha. We’ve even personalized it.” Keith stared curiously at the section closest to his right side. There were mechanical parts scattered everywhere, and there was even a half-built, complex-looking robot settled into the gravel. He nodded over to the area, gaining Lance’s attention.

 

 “That’s your friend’s stuff, right? Pidge, you said?” Just as Lance opened his mouth to respond, a girl with short, light brown hair that curved out in all directions around her neck poked her head out from behind the shack. Her golden eyes were narrowed behind her round glasses, her arms folded.

 

 “I heard my name. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, Lance, but didn’t I tell you, oh, hm, let’s say  _ an hour ago, _ to get me some direly needed mechanical oil?” Lance froze before letting his shoulders slump in guilt.

 

 “L-Look, I went around to, like, three stores trying to find it, a-and, then, when I did, I didn't-” She cut him off, getting closer to him slowly in an intimidating fashion. Keith couldn’t help but compare her to a stereotypically stern, disappointed mom. The fact that the top of Pidge’s head just barely reached Lance’s chest made the situation all the more amusing to him.

 

 “Ah, yes, yes, I see. You  _ did _ bring it, so I guess you’re off the hook. But - and, again, correct me if I’m wrong - does a trip to the local repair store  _ really  _ somehow have anything to do with bringing a stranger home?” 

 

 “I-I… I-” Lance’s face flushed red; he didn’t really know what to say, looking ashamed and somewhat defeated.

 

 “Your friend didn't have enough money to pay for the mechanical oil, so I chipped in five dollars. He wouldn't leave me alone about ‘repaying his debt,’ so, that’s partially why I’m here.” Keith spoke up after a few moments of silence. As funny as it was seeing Lance get scolded, he definitely didn't want the trouble of Lance’s friends misunderstanding something and suspecting him, so he thought he’d help him out a little, just to clear his own name. Something told him he didn’t want to be the one Pidge yelled at, either. She pushed up her glasses with her index finger and studied Keith, eyes narrowed, looking him up and down. He felt like she was staring into his soul, which made him more than a little uncomfortable. He shifted somewhat nervously.

 

 After a few moments, she loosely held her hand out to him.

 

 “I’m Pidge, although  _ someone _ seems to have already told you that. Nice to meet you.” Pidge grinned crookedly and Keith couldn’t help but give a small smile in return as they shook hands.

 

 “I’m Keith. Now, um, if you don’t mind my asking, why do you need this oil? Earlier, I couldn’t help but notice that it’s not typical Zarkonion oil - the type that most people these days use - and got curious, so. Oh, that’s my other reason for being here.” Pidge chuckled softly, placing her hands on her hips.

 

 “I see, so you’re familiar with this oil. The name is in some alien language I’m not familiar with, so I usually just call it M.O. I’m using it to repair our ship’s engine.” Pidge jerked her thumb back to the ship close to behind her. It was semi-large, built to fit at least four. The rust crusting its surface revealed it to be more aged than new. The faded grey paint on its side spelt out “The Garrison”. It seemed to be missing one of its engines - Keith noted that it was the one they had to repair. The ship would have looked like trash to most, but Keith sensed something home-like about it. It was almost nostalgic, for him, like he’d somehow seen it before.

 

 “How long have you had your ship?” Keith made his way over to it, looking at it with a new kind of admiration, respect, and interest. Pidge and Lance followed him over, Lance carefully placing his hand on its surface.

 

 “We’ve had it since Zarkon took over our region; why do you ask?” Lance asked, squinting suspiciously at Keith. He rolled his eyes. 

 

 “‘The Garrison’... Wasn’t that the name of the rebellion that tried to help this region? What happened to it?” Keith turned his back to Lance; he didn’t really want to have to deal with him, and, anyways, it didn’t seem like he really had anything else to contribute to the conversation. Pidge clenched her fist, avoiding Keith’s eyes as she spoke.

 

 “Yeah... it was. This was my dad’s ship…” Her voice was low and seemed to be on the verge of cracking with emotion, and Keith started to regret asking. He knew to stop asking questions when things got sensitive, so he carefully changed the subject.

 

 “How long have you guys stayed here?” This question would be safe enough to ask, Keith thought, and, luckily, it was.

 

 “We’ve stayed here for about two years now, starting right after Zarkon took over. We were staying with the Garrison until Zarkon attacked, and we were a part of the few that survived. But, sadly, we have lost touch with the rest of the survivors… including my brother and dad. Deciding to stay here until we were able to search for them was a mutual decision between all of us. Been working on this baby,” Pidge patted the side of the ship proudly, “for about two months now.” 

 

 Keith nodded understandingly; the story was interesting and definitely made sense, considering everything he himself had experienced. He found himself briefly wondering what other kinds of hardships they had been through. He glanced back at Lance, guilt creeping into his chest, thinking about how harsh he had been before. His back was turned to the ship now, facing both of his new acquaintances.

 

  “So, is it just you two here?” Lance shook his head.

 

  “No, our other friend, Hunk, lives here as well. He's in the kitchen - finds comfort in cooking.” Lance turned with a crooked grin and and starting walking to the shack, motioning for Keith to follow him. He hesitated at first, but Pidge nudged him slightly, giving him a nice, somehow reassuring smile, and started walking as well.

  
 There were a lot of things, at the moment, that Keith was uncertain of. There were so many factors and risks - so many questions that had to be answered and information that had to be taken into account... but his mind was far too muddled for him to be able to - or even  _ want _ to mull over it all. He watched the backs of the people in front of him; they were so unfamiliar and yet he felt some kind of similarity between himself and them. He frowned. His feelings, his past, his questions… Would these strangers be able to cure them?


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance brings Keith to house, but things don't go so well...  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm so sorry for the long wait on the reply! We will try our best to update sooner for the next chapter. I hope this chapter's length makes up for it!  
> -Taiyo
> 
> You know what, I'm not even sorry that I procrastinated on homework to finish this with Taiyo lol klance for life-  
> -Tsuki

Keith had no memory of ever eating something someone else had cooked. The meals he usually had consisted of convenience-station bought goods, or some kind of canteen medley of alien foods he couldn’t even begin to pronounce. The things he ate were tasteless and questionable, and left no impression on him whatsoever, other than the fact that they were what sustained his energy.

 

 Lance, on the other hand, looked like he had had his fair share of home-cooked meals. He peeked around the broad shoulder of his other friend and roommate, Hunk, who was currently humming a soft tune while chopping up some herbs - Keith didn’t recognize what kind they were - and sliding them carefully into the boiling water. His voice was low, but calming. Lance pouted slightly, resting his chin on Hunk’s shoulder. 

 

 “Dude, chestnut soup? Again?” Keith stared at Lance, his eye twitching, any guilty feelings from earlier being erased. He hadn’t so much as been able to even  _ smell _ something that looked so heavenly, and yet Lance was complaining? ‘I can only really find things to be annoyed about with him, can’t I?’ Keith inwardly sighed, not really expecting Hunk to whirl around at the sound of his exhale. Hunk’s eyes were wide and his mouth was open; he looked like he was about to say something to Lance, but immediately shut his mouth at the sight of a stranger in their humble abode. He clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes at Keith, and Keith suddenly felt very anxious.

 

 “... Oh? Who is this?” His voice was light-hearted and friendly, not seeming to match the forced smile and stiffened shoulders that his body sported. Keith tried to smile, but he didn't really think he did a good job at making himself look any more friendly than he was. Lance could see the suspicion and apprehension in Hunk’s gaze and scratched the back of his neck, getting between them with a bright grin.

 

 “He’s Keith. He totally helped me out in getting some oil for Pidge and seemed pretty interested in whatever its use is for, so I invited him to come back and meet her.” Hunk didn’t look very impressed. He wiped his rough, calloused hands on a towel and pushed up the sleeves of his green and orange jacket. His arms were crossed in a disapproving manner. It was becoming more and more apparent to Keith that Lance was the prepubescent child in their trio, and Pidge and Hunk were the overprotective parents. 

 

 “Lance…” came Hunk’s warning reply, “don’t you remember the last time you took one of your love interests home? He pilfered the last of our eggs and we had to skip breakfast for the following week until we could get more. I really don’t think this is app-” Lance’s face turned blood red and he quickly covered Hunk’s mouth. Pidge was snickering.

 “D-Dude! Hunk! Okay, first of all, Keith  _ is not and will never be _ my “love interest”, okay-” 

 

 “You say that now-” Pidge interjected with a very sly smirk, still muffling laughter. Lance shot her a glare before continuing.

 “-and, secondly, I’m pretty sure I already apologized for that and we all agreed we would put it behind us and never speak of it again, right?  _ And _ that you would put a little faith and trust in me next time because I promised I would be more careful!” He defended. Hunk sighed, feeling defeated, but still suspicious and tense.

 

 “Alright, yes, but…” he gave Keith a distrustful look before continuing, “it never hurts to be cautious.” Pidge placed a hand on Hunk’s forearm after watching Keith shift uncomfortably.

 

 “I felt the same way too, at first, Hunk, but I’ve talked with him a little and have come to the conclusion that he isn't going to deceive and manipulate us. Besides, I doubt someone who would willingly give up money for the sake of someone he doesn’t even know would want to steal our eggs.” Pidge chuckled, giving Keith a subtle thumbs up and winking. Keith could already tell who his favourite among the three friends was and couldn't help but smile a little, relieved. Hunk looked to Lance, who nodded enthusiastically in agreement to Pidge’s words. Hunk’s shoulders slumped relentingly and he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

 “I… I guess that makes sense.” He allowed. Keith looked away, out of a dingy window to his right. This entire situation just made him uncomfortable, and he was beginning to regret coming along with Lance. Why did he need this guy’s approval again? He himself knew he had done nothing wrong, and that was all that mattered, right? He came here to have a brief conversation about oil with Pidge - so why was he in their house getting interrogated by some  _ stranger? _

 “Look, I didn’t come here to get cozy, I promise. I just wanted to talk to Pidge, honestly.” Hunk stared at him for a little longer than comfortable before walking over to Keith, clasping his shoulder. He leaned down so that he was at eye-level with him and gave him a small, almost patronizing smile.

 “Well, it would be downright disrespectful to just walk into someone’s house and  _ not _ stick around to try their cooking, wouldn’t it?” Hunk straightened out his back, his hands on his hips as he shook his head.

 “I swear, Lance, you always pick up the rude ones.” Lance’s face went red again, and he glared at his accuser.

 “I told you, already! I didn’t pick him up!” Hunk and Pidge laughed at him, causing Lance’s face to turn even redder. Keith sighed. These three were really persistent, weren’t they? Why would they even assume such idiotic things? Lance must really be some kind of hopeless romantic if they automatically assume that, to say the least. ’It’d be too troublesome to deal with trying to convince them to let me go, now. And, besides, I am, maybe, just a  _ little _ curious about the soup and what it tastes like. Just a little.’ He rubbed the back of his neck defeatedly, not making eye contact with the anticipating faces before him.

 

 “I’ll stay to eat, if you insist. But I have to leave before sundown,” his voice came briskly, and he almost felt apologetic, but couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. 

 

 “Why?” Lance’s curious voice reached his ears and Keith glared at him, annoyed.

 “It’s really none of your business, but someone’s waiting for me at home, and I don’t want to worry him,” Keith snapped. Pidge shook his head and looked at Lance with a face full of sarcastic, teasing sadness, laying her hand on his shoulder. 

 

 “Oh no, poor Lance. There are plenty of fish in the sea, though, don’t worry,” she spoke, her eyes glimmering with amusement. Lance just about exploded, Hunk was laughing, and Keith was sighing, unable to care enough to set the record straight.

 As good as the food had looked being prepared, nothing compared to how it actually tasted -  _ God, _ how it  _ tasted _ … Keith had never realized just how amazing home-cooked meals could taste, and although he didn’t have the best first impression of Hunk, he couldn't help but mumble praises of awe at his skills between mouthfuls. Lance was still sulking a little over the ingredients used in the soup and side dishes, but despite his complaints, Keith couldn’t help but notice that he consumed every drop of it. He smiled slightly; he was slowly beginning to actually enjoy the three’s presence. He stopped when Lance made eye contact with him. Lance’s mouth curved into a smirk, his eyes narrowing. 

 

 “For someone who was so desperate to leave, you sure look like you’re enjoying yourself.” Keith rolled his eyes.

 

“The food is really good, okay? I have to admit, Hunk is a culinary genius.” Pidge and Lance nodded in agreement. Pidge nudged Hunk and winked at him.

 

“See, even though he’s got quite a mouth on him, his cooking makes up for it.” Hunk pouted, crossing his arms childishly.

 

“I swear, I’m always being used by you assholes.” This earned a snort from Pidge and a snicker from Lance. Keith  was only really just now realizing how…  _ lively _ the three were. He had already known, to some extent, when he had first seen and conversed with Lance, but sitting there, in the midst of their playful banter and laughter, he could really feel it. He could feel that they had a deep connection; anyone could tell from spending just a few minutes with them, and he was honestly surprised he hadn’t observed it earlier. He had, after all, been talking with them for almost an hour, and noticed many things about them. For example, Pidge was the one who kept everything running around the house. Hunk cooked and cleaned, and Lance was the breadwinner. This, no doubt, took Keith by surprise.

 

“Wow, _you’re_ the one who works?” Lance glared at him.

 

“Did you  _ really _ think I was just some kind of lazy bum?” Keith rolled his eyes.

 

 “Well, you certainly don’t seem to be very responsible, Mr. ‘I didn’t take enough money to the convenience station so some random stranger had to help me pay for my shit.’” 

 “Oh yeah? Well, you don’t seem so worthy of praise either, Mr. ‘I helped a random stranger by my own will, but it turns out it wasn’t because I’m a nice person. I probably had some dark, ulterior motive.’” Keith snarled as Lance mocked him and opened his mouth to retaliate, eyebrows furrowed harshly, but Hunk shushed them both.

 

“Quit it, both of you! No fighting at the table.” Keith rolled his dark eyes and Lance stuck his tongue out at Hunk. Keith was discovering that he was right; the three were definitely a family. And Lance was the annoyingly idiotic child. Keith studied Lance bitterly while he complained to Hunk about being reprimanded. He just didn’t get it. How could this idiot be the one that provided money for them? He sighed and traced empty circles aimlessly on the sunken in surface his bowl with the dingy spoon he had been given.

 

 “Hey, Keith, the sun’s setting.” Pidge pointed out. Keith looked out the window with a sigh, and sure enough, she was right. The blue in the sky was melting into different shades of reds and oranges. Keith sighed and stood up, pushing in his chair, his shoulders slouched.

 

 “Thank you for the food, Hunk. It was nice meeting you, Pidge.” Keith paused as he reached Lance. Instead of saying anything he just glared at him, found that that was really the only thing he  _ could  _ do. He had nothing to say. 

 

 “What the fuck’s your problem, mullethead?!” Lance spat, eyes burning, his fist clenched. Keith rolled his eyes tiredly. Right now, he just really,  _ really _ wanted to go home.

 

 “More like what's  _ your _ problem. You’re the one getting pissed over dumb shit.” Lance hissed at Keith’s retort. Pidge and Hunk were beginning to look nervous.

 “Well, besides Lance, talking with you was nice, I guess.” Keith muttered, looking frustrated. Pidge looked slightly disappointed, and Hunk had narrowed his eyes at Keith again, but neither of them said anything. Keith simply opened the door to their little shack and walked out, slipping his black, leather jacket back on. He paused in his steps and looked up at the sky, which was fast-fading to black. Shiro was probably worried sick, but that wasn’t what haunted Keith’s thoughts. A huff of air escaped his mouth and he grimaced. He just couldn’t stop thinking about how  _ annoying _ the whole situation was; he was wondering why he even let himself get into their business in the first place. He shook his head and continued walking down their driveway when he heard feet stomping in his direction. He felt his stomach churn in anticipation and fear (to his dismay) and when he whirled around it was to see Lance running towards him, waving something around. The tanned boy shoved a fist full of money into Keith’s face.

 “Hah, here… you… ah, asshole...” Lance muttered between huffs of breath, glaring up at Keith harshly; he had one hand placed on his bent knee to support his body. Keith looked at him without saying anything, just blankly staring at him, not comprehending the situation. Lance straightened back up and hissed, shaking the bills furiously.

 

 “ _ Fucking, _ ” he growled in a whisper before raising his voice, “take the money!  _ This _ is the whole reason I dragged your ass here and caused so much trouble, so you should at _ least _ take it!” Keith made an ‘o’ with his mouth and finally took it out of his hand.

 

 “...Thanks,” he muttered. Lance looked at him strangely for a moment before snickering.

 

 “It’s nothing personal, just repaying my debt, like I told you I would. Because, y’know, Lance Mcclain  _ isn’t _ an asshole... unlike a certain person he knows.” Keith rolled his eyes and frowned, hearing the insult in his words and turning around, shoving the money in his pocket.

 

 “Yeah, okay, whatever helps you sleep at night.” One moment Keith was walking away, and the next Lance was shoving his shoulder roughly, making him stumble. Keith whirled around, furious, until he saw Lance’s face. He froze.

 

 “What the  _ fuck _ is your problem? And I mean  _ seriously! _ ” Keith stiffened, realizing Lance’s irritated, exasperated expression had given way to a more angry, serious one. He continued. “You act like talking to us was, hell, like, fucking  _ pulling teeth _ and yet  _ you’re _ the one who helped me out in the first place! I don’t get it!  _ What _ is your deal, Keith?”

 

 “Look,  _ Lance, _ I don’t usually do this, okay?!” Keith snapped at him, his rage rekindled at hearing Lance use his name. Shiro was the only one who used it. Shiro was _ family _ . Who was Lance, to know and use his name as though he had  _ any _ right,  _ any _ business doing so? “I’m sorry that I don’t just talk to random strangers - even if I’ve just done something nice for them - and go home with them and converse with them like I’ve known them for forever!” He continued. Keith’s clenched fingers felt numb, and his own voice felt far away when he saw the look in Lance’s eyes. He grabbed Keith’s jacket collar, pulling his face closer to his, his lips pulled up into a snarl, a stark contrast to his emotional eyes.

 

 “ _ You… _ You think you’re so much fucking better than everyone else, don’t you?  _ You _ think  _ I’m _ some fucking idiot that can’t do anything? You don’t even fucking  _ know _ me and, and I guess that doesn’t really matter because you don’t seem to even give people a chance! You’re just a thoughtless asshole and you don’t even  _ realize _ maybe, just  _ maybe,  _ some strangers are human and have feelings and and don’t take shit for granted! I just wanted to fucking  _ repay _ you, and you were a complete dick about it! What the fucking hell, man? Fuck, _ fucking, _ ” Lance looked two seconds from either exploding or crying, and Keith didn’t want to see either. Lance release his grip on Keith lifelessly and pushed him away, his eyes trained on the ground, his breathing unsteady. He pushed his face into his hand for a moment before looking back up at Keith, his composure somewhat regained.

 

 “Just leave already. Go home to whoever is waiting for you. I repaid my debt.  _ We’re done here. _ ” Lance didn’t give Keith a chance to respond or even react to his words. He just turned on his heels and walked back to his house, his back tense and rigid. Keith stood there, more shocked than he had ever been. How could he have expected such an outburst from Lance, after all, when he was only thinking about himself - only  _ used  _ to thinking about himself? A pang of guilt spread inside Keith’s chest as he realized he had probably, definitely hurt Lance’s feelings. He bit back the strange ache in his heart and shook it off, turning his back to the shack and continuing to walk. He wasn’t going to see this guy ever again, so who cared what he thought, anyway? Right? 

  
  


 Once Keith had finally,  _ finally _ made it back home, he was completely exhausted. His feet ached so badly that they were almost numb. His knees felt like they were going to buckle underneath his weight. He blindly fished the house key from his jacket’s pocket, unlocking and opening the maroon and black front door to the small, two roomed house. Before Keith could so much as get in a word, his older brother’s strong arms were wound tightly around him, pulling him into a hug. The warmth that flooded Keith’s body was unexpected but familiar, and it offered comfort that he wasn’t sure he deserved but took in anyways. He laid a hand tiredly on Shiro’s shoulder to reciprocate the action. 

 

 “Where have you been?!” Shiro asked hurriedly in a voice full of concern. Keith’s jaw felt heavy.

 

 “Shiro, I-” he began softly, but Shiro continued, too panicked to register that he was speaking.

 

 “I was so worried! God, you have  _ no _ idea how worried I was... You’ve stayed out late before, yes, but you always told me when you did!. You just said you were going out for a few hours...” Keith pulled away from Shiro, eyeing him guiltily. Shiro was still wearing his work clothes, and the shock of white hair that fell into his eyes - unlike the rest natural, cropped, black strands - looked messy, like he’d been running his fingers through it a lot. His dark eyes were tired, and Keith felt bad for not even thinking to call and let his older brother know he’d be out so late.

 

 “It’s, um, well… It’s a long story.” Shiro didn’t care, and Keith could always spare time for Shiro, so they walked into the small living room and sat down. Keith explained everything that had happened, including Lance’s angry outburst. He finished and Shiro was quiet for a few minutes, thinking, as Keith knew from experience. And thinking, for Shiro, usually meant a lecture was coming.

 “Keith…” Shiro began in a soft but concerned voice. Keith’s shoulders slumped, “Keith, you really can’t just be so carelessly cold to others. I know it may not be the first thing you think about - especially if they’re like this boy, Lance, throwing insults right back at you without knowing how you really feel - but you have to try to be a little more aware, or communicate a little more. No one will know if you don’t tell them. Besides, it sounds like he may have been really hurt when he yelled at you...” Keith sighed tiredly, knowing he was right but trying not to dwell on it. It didn’t matter.

 

  “Who cares, Shiro? I mean... It's not like he’ll ever see me again, anyways… There’s nothing I can do now.” Shiro looked at him for a moment, his dark eyes sad, before standing up and laying a gentle hand on his younger brother’s shoulder.

 

 “You don’t know that. And you should hope you do see him again, so he doesn’t hold some kind of long-term grudge against you. And even if you don’t see him, you should try and use this as a learning experience, for future reference,” Shiro gave him a small smile, squeezing his shoulder at Keith’s groan.

 

“Get some sleep, okay? I know today was tiring for you.” Keith hesitated, looking up at Shiro before taking a deep breath and nodding. He watched his older brother walk to his room before he got up and slowly did the same. He took off his jacket and shirt and threw them into a forgotten corner in his room, adding onto the growing pile. The grey of his walls seemed to be even darker than usual as he peeled the covers back on his bed and slipped himself into it. He lifted his head and used his arms as a pillow, not wanting to sleep just yet; he stared at the ceiling, trying to organize his thoughts, but Shiro’s words and his argument with lance from earlier were the only things he could focus on. He frowned, glaring at a corner. The guilt growing inside of him was practically unavoidable now. He couldn’t help but wonder what Lance was thinking, how he felt, if he was okay. The truth was, Keith really  _ did _ hope he’d get to see Lance again, to apologize and maybe make it up to him - as well as to Pidge and Hunk, who didn’t at all deserve the way he had treated them. Keith sighed and turned over onto his side, the soft, lulling light from the moon reminding him of how tired he had been. ‘Tomorrow,’ he thought, ‘maybe tomorrow will be better,’ and let his eyes flutter shut.

   Lance slammed the front door to the shack shut behind him, fistsand jaw clenched as he stomped into the small space that doubled as a living room and bedroom. The impact practically shook the whole structure, causing Hunk and Pidge to jump back, startled, from watching from the  dingy, dirty window. Lance already knew, could see in their anxious faces that they had seen the whole thing go down.

 

  “That _ fucking _ asshole... We were just trying to be  _ nice _ to him! Not even nice, but just  _ polite! _ What the _ fuck _ ?!” Lance growled, eyes on fire, and flung himself onto their old, sagging couch. He sunk into it and hid his face into a pillow, groaning.

 

 “Lance-” Pidge began, but the aforementioned was unable to keep himself from listening to reason and continued in his ranting tone.

 

  “I hope I  _ never _ have to see that asshole again! I don’t care if he apologizes a hundred - no, a  _ thousand _ times, I’ll never forgive him! I’m sorry I even insisted on bringing him back and repaying him! Ugh!” Pidge sat next to Lance and patted his shoulder, face all concern and worry for her friend.

 

 “Hey man, you’re right; he was an asshole. But, it’s possible that he just really wasn’t good with people. I doubt he would lie about something like that, right? Just… try not to worry too much about it. This’ll blow over in a few days, and we might even be able to look back on it and laugh. Besides, we need to start focussing on the ship, anyways.” Hunk chimed in in a peppy, optimistic tone, smiling encouragingly at Lance, who was peeking out from behind the brown pillow with a skeptical look.

 

“Hunk is right, Lance. Plus, we also need to go shopping for groceries in a few days, so, I’ll need your help with that. You need to perk up so you can do your best at your jobs, right?” Pidge smiled as well, standing back up to place her hands on her hips.

 

“Just sleep on it, dude. It’ll be fine in the morning.” Lance sighed, straightening his back up on the couch, his face still sullen, although he was calmer than he had been before.

 

 “Yeah… I guess so,” he muttered lowly, anger still churning in his stomach. He decided that even if he didn’t feel any better about the situation, it would be best to just take his friends’ advice and just get some sleep. Hunk and Pidge watched as he got up and dragged himself, pouting, to his room. Not bothering to change into his pajamas or wash his face like he usually did, Lance slipped into his bed dejectedly, only realizing just how tired he was when his head hit the waiting pillow. It was a different kind of tired than he had normally experienced; usually, when he fell asleep, it was out of happy exhaustion from a gruelling but rewarding day at work, but now? Now, although Lance wanted to fall asleep as fast as possible and felt mentally and emotionally tired, the light feeling that usually filled his heart and lulled him to sleep was missing. He felt empty but heavy at the same time; it was like a bearable but annoying amount of pressure was being applied to his chest. He didn’t understand why or how he was feeling the way he was, but quickly shook his mind from the numbing, taxing thoughts and closed his eyes. Lance didn’t care  _ how _ long it took him; he  _ would _ fall asleep - and, for that matter, forget all about the strange and infuriating stranger he had met that day. He had bigger, much more important things to worry about, and he wasn’t going to let some asshole’s thoughtless, uninformed opinion affect him. ‘Yeah,’ he thought, ‘I’ll just sleep all of this off; tomorrow will be better,’ and drifted off into a restless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed it, please share with friends! If you so graciously want to make fanart of it or anything related to it, use the tag "Keepthechange". Taiyo has a tumblr and instagram you can reach her on @imnotpopularok ! We hope you enjoyed this chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed it, please share with friends! If you so graciously want to make fanart of it or anything related to it, use the tag "Keepthechange". Taiyo has a tumblr you can reach her on @imnotpopularok. Tsuki doesn't have anything because she's a shy piece of garbage; she mostly just has unused writing accounts. Anyways, we hope you guys liked it and stick with us throughout the development of the story! xoxo


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